


Snake vs Bottle

by SatanSpawnedNougat



Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Comedy, Crack, Crowley accidentally hypnotizes Aziraphale, Crowley's 'enemy', Crowley's Tongue (Good Omens), Cuddles, Fluff, Idiots in Love, Ineffable Husbands (Good Omens), Ineffable Idiots (Good Omens), M/M, Sleepy Cuddles, Snake Crowley (Good Omens), Snake Cuddles, bottle, snake - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-10
Updated: 2019-07-10
Packaged: 2020-06-25 19:57:16
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 869
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19752760
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SatanSpawnedNougat/pseuds/SatanSpawnedNougat
Summary: Where Crowley wants to get the very last drops of wine out of a bottle, and he gets an idea to do just that... but it kind of backfires into his face.





	Snake vs Bottle

Crowley took another gulp out of the nearly empty wine bottle, leaning back into the chair he was seated on. Frowning slightly, he pulled back and turned the bottle upside down. His frown turned into a scowl when he still saw some droplets left who just wouldn’t come out.   


“Get. Out. Of. There!” He tried to threaten them. But alas, wine was different from plants and didn’t tend to listen to him. His scowl deepened.   


“You can always get a new bottle, dear,” Aziraphale offered, sipping his hot cocoa while seated on the chair in front of his own.   


“But I want  _ those drops _ !” Crowley complained, shaking the wine bottle above his mouth in a desperate attempt to get them out.   


His long, slitted tongue poked out of his fanged mouth, curling around the bottle’s end, trying to lick off some extra wine. “Crowley…” Aziraphale started, voice shaky. The demon ignored him, for an idea had formed in his mind.   


Seeing his own tongue in the corner of his eyes had bought him an idea. Placing the bottle sideways on the table next to his chair, he grinned in triumph as scales formed on his body and his fangs grew sharper as his bones popped. Soon, a black snake had taken his place, a thin tongue shooting in and out of his scaled snout. It wasn’t as large as the form he had taken on back in The Garden, but the right size for what he wanted to do. “Crowley,  _ don’t _ ,” Aziraphale warned him, catching on to where his thought led. Of course, Crowley didn’t listen.   


He shot forward, right at the bottle, and his head went inside with a pop. Crowley gave a snake’s grin, fangs showing, when he saw the drops of wine right in front of him. He pushed forward, deeper into the bottle until he was close enough. And then his tongue repeatedly shot out of his snout, licking up the wine until there was none left.   


Crowley took a moment to bask in his glory of getting out  _ all _ the wine, a triumphant hiss slipping out of him. Then he pulled back to get out of the bottle.   


It didn’t work. His forked tongue shot out again, but this time in panic.   


The snake’s eyes widened and he pulled back again, moving his long body in many ways to try and wiggle out of the bottle. He was a  _ snake _ , he should be able to get out. Snakes were known for that kinda things. He just wasn’t trying hard enough, it appeared.   


Not about to lose against a bottle out of all things, Crowley pulled himself up - hissing in the perfect mixture of fury and panic, wildly shaking his head back and forth in the hopes of shaking the bottle off.   


All the while, Aziraphale watched on; sipping his cocoa with large eyes and oddly mesmerized by the snake’s movements. He had once heard a story of snakes hypnotizing people with their movement and had called it a fairy tale. Now he wasn’t so sure anymore, seeing as he knew that he ought to help him but finding himself nailed on the spot. He took another sip of the cocoa.   


Crowley meanwhile fell off the couch with a thud, rolling over the floor as he tried to get a grip. The bottle clanged against the floor but didn’t break. An annoyed noise that snakes shouldn’t be able to make came from the demon. He continued with shaking his head and wringing his scaled body around, as he rolled around the bookshop and bumped into things as well as knocking tables and chairs over. Unbeknownst to Crowley, his snake form had grown bigger, which made it even harder for him to escape than it did before. Crowley was starting to believe that his enemy, the bottle, was out to specifically get him.   


After having been at it for about an hour, Crowley’s huge body slumped against the floor in defeat and exhaustion. It appeared that the bottle had defeated the demonic snake, who started to sniffle at his defeat. A shadow loomed over him and Crowley looked up towards Aziraphale, who’s face looked twisted through the bottle. “Have you learned your lesson by now? Don’t go sticking your head in wine bottles,” the angel scolded him. Crowley stuck out his forked tongue.   


Aziraphale sighed. “Let me help you.” Reaching out, he made the bottle disappear with a touch. “Just get a new bottle next time, alright?”

Not wanting to turn back so that Aziraphale could see his embarrassed blush, Crowley instead climbed up the angel’s leg, who tensed up in surprise. He curled himself around his neck and shoulders, nestling close against his warm skin. “Uhm… Crowley?”

“I’m sssleepy now… and you’re warm and sssoft,” Crowley explained himself, closing his eyes and promptly falling asleep. He felt rather safe like this. He knew for a fact that no bottle would get him here.   


Aziraphale stared at the snake, gaping for a while before he shook his head. He fondly scratched Crowley on his head once before he casually went on with his day - as if he didn’t have a huge snake sleeping on his shoulders. 


End file.
